Paul and Lucy Spadoni periodically live in Tuscany to explore Paul’s Italian roots, practice their Italian and enjoy “la dolce vita.”
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Thursday, April 17, 2014

Our long climb towards heaven on the island of Elba worth the effort

Monday, April 14

For our sole train-trip “vacation within a vacation” during this year’s stay in Italy, we
lifted our bicycles aboard in San Salvatore at 9 a.m. for the first
stage of a three-day, two-night trip to the isola di
Elba, Toscana’s main island. We transferred at Lucca and Pisa—stopping for
a two-hour bike ride and stroll in Pisa—before arriving at Piombino Marittima, taking all
regional trains—a real bargain at only 12 euro (about $16.60) per person
one-way for three hours of train travel, with an extra 2.50 euro for a bike. By
comparison, a one-way ticket from Tacoma to Portland on Amtrak would cost from
$35-48 for a three-hour trip. We then took a one-hour ride on a ferry to Portoferraio,
Elba’s main city, arriving at 4 p.m.

Relaxing moments after arriving at our bed & breakfast.

The bed and breakfast I had booked, Tra Cielo e Mare, should have been only
three kilometers from the ferry landing, according to the directions I had
printed from Google Maps—but alas, Google failed us miserably this time. Several
of the reviews had warned about not following the map given on the Venere
website, but I had used Google instead and thought I would be OK. I only
remembered that the reviews complained about the road being rough, which I
figured wouldn’t be an issue for bikes, but there were other issues I had
overlooked. We arrived at the location marked on the map and saw no sign, but
luckily we found a man weeding his garden and asked for help. With a knowing
smile, he nodded his head and glanced skyward. He has been asked for this
information countless times, he said, even from people with GPS-directed cars.
His house is Via Colle Reciso 1, but the bed and breakfast is Via Colle Reciso
80, which is another five kilometers further, up and over the top of a Mount Orello on a rough dirt road. We would be much better off going around the
mountain and hitting Via Colle Reciso from the other end. It will still be
quite a climb for bicyclists, he said, but we had the distinct impression that
starting from this end would be a mistake.

Having already erred by not reading the reviews more carefully, we decided to
follow his advice. Even with the proper directions, it was about five kilometers
further, but we didn’t have to go over the top of the mountain. The first three-kilometer
leg took us on a busy arterial that climbed slowly around the perimeter of the
hills, so we were able to ride up the incline on our single-speed bikes. When
we hit the other end of Via Colle Reciso, though, we did face a two-kilometer
walk up a steep hillside, pushing bikes and carrying backpacks. Altogether,
what I had mapped out as a 20-minute bike ride took us two hours, and we badly
needed showers and a change of clothes when we arrived. The name of the bed and
breakfast means “between sea and heaven,” and as it was about two-thirds of
the way up the mountain, we were closer to heaven than the sea. On the positive
side, though, we had a spectacular view of Portoferraio and the surrounding
hills. Also, since one of the activities we had considered doing on Elba was to
hike up a mountain, we were already almost there.

The circle indicates where Venere and Google think the B&B is located. The X marks where it actually is. The arrow shows a gap in the trees where we would have come down Mount Orello had we continued on Via Colle Reciso starting at address 1 and looping around the right side of the hills.

After cleaning up, we faced the question of where and how to eat dinner. Noting
that we had arrived on bicycles, our hosts Elisabetta and Sergio offered to
provide us bowls of pasta with meat sauce, and we should have accepted. But we
didn’t want to impose on their hospitality, and besides, we had passed a hotel
with a restaurant about a mile back. Sergio called the restaurant to make sure
it was open and then drove us to Le Picchaiae, which was hosting a group of
Germans who had arrived on a tour bus. The restaurant had just re-opened for
the season and did not yet have printed menus, but Luca, our waiter, listed the
possibilities. We chose to share single orders of cream of carrot soup and a seafood risotto for our
first courses and a single order of a seafood platter for the secondo. We should have stopped with the
primi, both of which were excellent
and ample, and then we could have split a dessert dolce. Instead, Luca delivered a generous platter of seafood,
including shrimp, lobster, prawns, scallops and swordfish. That’s a lot for a
single serving, Lucy remarked, and Luca didn’t respond directly. Indeed, we
couldn’t quite finish off the plate and told him we would skip dessert.

Tramonto, or sunset, from Tra Cielo e Mare.

We couldn’t find Luca when it was time to ask for the bill, but another server
told us we could go directly to the cashier and the bill would be delivered
there. That’s when we received the shock of finding that our total bill
amounted to 80 euro, or $110. I asked to see the itemization and found that the
bottle of water cost 5 euro, the soup and riso 25 euro, and we had been charged
for two servings of fish at 25 euro each. When I mentioned that I was not happy
with the total, the manager came and confirmed it was correct. I really couldn’t
deny that we had received two servings worth of seafood, even though it came on
one plate, so I paid the bill without further comment. As we walked back to our
rooms in the light of a full moon, we vowed that we would not eat there the
next night and that I would mention my displeasure in an online review. We kept
both promises.

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About Me

First off, before you hassle me about our title, Lucy thought of it. Yes, I know some people may think broad is derogatory, but the etymology is uncertain and she doesn’t find it offensive, and it made me laugh. We have been married since 1974 and are empty-nesters now, which allows me to bring my submerged Italophilia into the open. We first came to live in Italy from February-April in 2011 and have returned during the same months every year. From 2011-2015, we lived in San Salvatore, at the foot of the hilltop city Montecarlo, where my paternal grandparents were born, raised and, in 1908, married. In late 2015, we bought a home in Montecarlo. We come for a variety of purposes: We want to re-establish contact with distant cousins in both Nonno’s and Nonna’s families, we want to learn the language and see what it is like to live as Italians in modern Italy, we like to travel and experience different cultures. Even if we aren’t successful at achieving these purposes, we love Italy and enjoy every moment here, so there is no chance we will be disappointed. I am grateful to God for giving me a wife who is beautiful, clever, adaptable and willing to jump into my dreams wholeheartedly.